


"Crazy" is Relative, Right?

by falconeri



Series: The ABC's of the GRE's [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Borderline Tony Stark, Psych Ward, psychiatric hospital
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falconeri/pseuds/falconeri
Summary: After the fifth time that month that Tony landed himself in the ER after binge drinking, the ER doctors refer him to the Psych Ward, where he meets a host of interesting people.This is part of my ABCs of the GREs, where GRE vocabulary words are utilized in the narrative, and can be found in bolded text. Definitions of each will be included in the notes at the end of the chapter.





	1. What happened?

**Author's Note:**

> In which the author learns that they are really bad at writing one-shots, because this was definitely going to be a one-shot but is now a two-shot, and very well might become even longer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets admitted to SHIELD hospital's psych ward, meets a science bro patient, and gets a new diagnosis.
> 
> As always, bolded words are from a GRE vocabulary list; definitions can be found in the End Notes.

Tony Stark woke up slowly, squinting his eyes against the bright light, not able to pin where he was, exactly. The last thing he remembered was it was Friday, the start of the weekend, and he was going to a party… had his drink been spiked? Finally blinking his eyes completely open, he rolled his head to one side, only to find, “hey platypus,” he said, voice rough, “what happened?” Still trying to put together clues, he looked around the room until he found a clock. Okay, same day, then… or he’d been out of it for longer than it felt like. 

Rhodey rolled his eyes in the way he reserved pretty much exclusively for Tony, “You had a little too much to drink yesterday.” Tony settled a little at that, at least he hadn’t been roofied and held hostage until his dad paid a ransom, but then realized that he was unconscious and/or sleeping way longer than he thought. “Tones, they want to keep you here at least overnight, until a doctor can do a psych eval on you.”

“A psych eval?” Tony spluttered, “Why?” 

Deadpan, Rhodey looked him in the eyes, “because this is the 5th time this month that I had to bring you in for alcohol poisoning, dude. This isn’t normal behavior, not even for a college student. Much less a college senior who’s only barely majority age!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice a little, hating himself for the way Tony shrunk back a bit. “Sorry bud, I’m just worried,” he said, watching Tony carefully. Once he saw Tony relax, he was able to relax a little too. Until there was a knock on the door.

“Hi!” a nurse said brightly, “My name is Sharon, and I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’m going to grab your vitals real quick before you see the doctor.” With that, she fastened the velcro cuff around Tony’s arm to get his blood pressure, stuck a pulse oximeter on his other hand, and stuck a thermometer under his tongue. “Looking good,” she said, still too chipper for Tony’s liking, “I’ll be right back!”

Tony and Rhodey sat in impossibly awkward silence after that, neither quite knowing how to respond to the situation that they were in the midst of. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to hear another knock on the side of the door, and Sharon walked back into the room.

“Tony? Tones?” That was Rhodey trying to get his attention, was that a… hand? Waving in front of his face? When did he zone out like that? The nurse had only been gone for a few minutes, he thought. At that point, the nurse, Sharon, came over to his bed with a handful of forms for Tony to sign for admission into the hospital, then disappeared with the papers, popping back into the room right afterwards with a stack of fabric… clothing, maybe? Not the standard hospital gown, though.

“So first thing’s first,” Tony hated chipper people, “We’re going to need you to change clothing,” she said, placing a folded pile of what looked to be scrubs at the foot of his bed. “Leave your shoes off,” she instructed, “these socks are grippy,” she showed the tread on the bottom of the socks before placing them down too. “If you have any jewelry, now’s the time to remove it, I can get you a baggie if you need.” Tony shook his head no, “You won’t be allowed access to your cell phone, but there are landlines in the unit, so you should write down a list of numbers you think you might want to call. Then I can put your cell phone in our storage, or it can go home with your friend.” Tony almost snorted, saying that he had no one to call; minus Rhodey, of course, and Tony had the other student’s number memorized. “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes so you can get changed!” she said, still chipper, and Tony actually almost grimaced. 

“Do you want me to leave too-” Rhodey began to ask before Tony cut him off, and with desperation in his voice that Rhodey hadn’t ever truly heard before, asked him to stay. “Alright Tones,” Rhodey said, settling down into the chair placed in the room for visitors, and allowing Tony to change. 

He debating calling to let his father know, before he had to forfeit his phone, but Howard wouldn’t care. More likely, Tony would get yelled at that he was causing a scene, sullying the family name; he was an** ingrate ** who wasn’t repaying his parents for the lavish lifestyle he had grown accustomed to. His father was always one to go on a **harangue** , especially when Tony’s status as a family disappointment was brought up in conversation, or when Tony himself let him know something was wrong. If he hadn’t been practically raised by Jarvis, well, he didn’t think he would have survived this long. Not when he was constantly a disappointment to his family; every time his father was reminded of that he would turn to liquor, once drunk, he started swinging at Tony. By the time Tony had finished that particular stroll down memory lane, he was dressed in the scrubs, and noticed that the pants were held with elastic, not a drawstring. _ Right, psych ward… _ he thought, maneuvering himself back into the bed.

Tony had settled back into the bed, and had been resting for about a minute, before the nurse knocked. “All done?” she called from the outside, coming in once Tony had verbally affirmed his modesty. “Great, and your valuables?”

“I gave them to Rhodey.”

“Perfect! We’re going to move you to the Behavioral Health Unit, where you’ll be staying briefly.” Tony thought that was an awfully nice term for psych ward. 

* * *

Rhodey followed Tony, who followed the nurse, through the hospital, up and elevator, and to a set of closed double doors. The placard affixed to the wall next to the doors read “Behavioral Health Unit 2.” Tony looked around, and across the hall spotted “Behavioral Health Unit 1.” He wondered what the difference was between them, on the outside, they certainly looked the same.

“This is where you’ll have to part ways,” she said, sounding less chipper on her part now, handing Rhodey a sheet of paper, “These are visiting hours.” 

Rhodey pulled Tony in for a hug, and for the first time that evening the weight of what was happening hit Tony full-force. He was about to be left alone, in a psych ward of all places. Clinging to Rhodey, he tried not to cry. Rhodey, for his part, rubbed Tony’s back and said “I’ll be back tomorrow Tones,” easing the smaller boy away at the nurse’s “hurry up” gesture. “You’ll be just fine,” he said, and Tony didn’t know if he was saying that for his own sake or for Tony’s.

Sharon swiped her ID through a card reader and the doors clicked open. Rhodey stayed behind, watching them lead his best friend inside, before the doors shut once more.

Tony stepped inside the unit, his instinct was always to look around in a new situation, and this was no different. There were two-toned walls, a light and a dark blue, with a handrail dividing the colors. A large whiteboard looked to display the activities of the day. 2 landlines were on one of the walls, but they were missing the actual phones. Two plastic chairs were set under the phones, and Sharon directed him to sit in one of them. 

“We’re just going to get your vitals again,” she stated, fastening the blood pressure cuff. Tony let her do whatever, too engrossed in trying to figure out the biggest weaknesses in this place to exploit and escape. He wasn’t going to, of course, this was a voluntary admission (though prompted somewhat by Rhodey), but it was a nice thought experiment. Once Sharon had finished with the set of vitals, she had another nurse wheel out a scale and measured his weight. Finally, she had him sit back down again, and his first hospital bracelet was cut off, a new one affixed in its place. 

Another nurse had come by and was waiting, and Sharon introduced him, “This is Phil, he’s another nurse here, and he’ll give you a tour of the place.” Tony almost scoffed, the unit seemed small, and probably didn’t warrant a tour, but stood up anyways. Really, he was just exhausted, and would have traded the tour for a pillow. Regardless, he followed Phil around, only half paying attention.

“This is the cafeteria,” he started, “it’s where you’ll pick up your food, though where you eat is up to you. Sometimes people like to play games or watch TV,” Tony noted a TV protected behind a thick layer of shatter-proof plastic, and nearly shuddered. “Here’s the rec room, there are some books and games, and some art materials, oh, and a bigger TV here with some comfortable seating.” Tony peeked inside the room and continued to follow Phil, “this is the nurse’s station, where you’ll come pick up pills. And, well, that’s basically the whole place. If you circle the Unit 20 times, it’s roughly like walking a mile.” _ Sure _ , Tony thought scornfully, _ like walking a mile if you’re a hamster or some shit. _

“Here’s your room,” Phil said, startling Tony out of his reverie. “I suggest you try to go to sleep now, it’s late, and the psychiatrist will meet with you in the morning.”

Tony looked at the placard next to the door, which he noticed had no actual handles and was propped open. There, on top, in messy whiteboard scrawl, “4A: Tony.” The placard was divided in half, and the bottom half read “4B: Steve.”

Tony walked inside the room, found the unclaimed bed, laid down, and promptly passed out. 

* * *

He woke to a nurse shaking his shoulder, “Hi honey,” she said, and Tony bristled, “I just need to get your vitals real quick, alright?” He blinked slowly, realizing it was light out, and looked at the nurse's ID, but his eyes were too bleary to read what her name was.

* * *

He woke the second time to a voice over the intercom, stating “Behavioral Health 2 residents, please come to the cafeteria for breakfast” twice over before crackling out. Tony rolled over and tried to cover his head with a pillow, but it was no use, he was awake. Sitting up, he looked to the other bed in the room and noticed it was empty. He stood and stretched, then padded in the _ stupid grippy socks _ to the bathroom. _ Great, there’s not even a real door. Just a curtain. That covers the middle of the door. Not even the top or bottom. _Once again, the realization of where he was hit him hard, and he sullenly used the bathroom and brushed his teeth with the toiletries he had found on the table next to his bed. 

Next, he padded out and easily found the cafeteria. He gathered the food he was given; they told him that he could choose what he wanted for every other meal, but because he came in late, they gave him the generic breakfast. He sat down at an unclaimed table and put the **insipid** food in his mouth methodically as he glanced around the room. He was too caught up in that to taste the food, if there was any flavor involved, which Tony strongly thought might not be the case. There were a few people who were older, definitely in their 60s or older, a few who were middle age, and many more that looked like Tony’s age. There was a table of patients his age sitting together, laughing, and Tony almost wished his could join them. He could hear part of their conversation, a boy with long blond hair and issues with volume modulation was loudly telling a **lurid** story; it seemed exaggerated, probably untrue, but the others sitting with him were paying attention regardless

A mousy boy broke his assessment of the other residents, sitting down beside him. He started eating, not saying anything. Tony started to fill out the menu they had given him for his lunch order, and when he looked back up, he saw the other boy doodling on the back of the menu what looked to be… “Are those benzene rings?” Tony asked.

The boy startled, “uh… yeah,” he stammered, “I uh, it’s fun, for me… chemistry.”

Tony nodded, maybe he could find a friend here after all. He stuck out his hand for a handshake, and the boy said “they don’t let us touch while we’re in here, not even high fives. I’m Bruce, though.”

“Tony.”

They didn’t get to talk much after that, because Tony was approached by a nurse. “Tony?” she asked, “I’m Maria, one of the nurses. The psychiatrist wants to talk to you.”

She led him to a small room off the side with a desk visible from the door, and ushered him inside. “Close the door,” came the voice from behind the desk, and Tony did so before sitting down. The man looked foreboding, and Tony wasn’t really looking forward to spilling his soul to the guy. “I’m Dr. Nick Fury, and I’ll be your psychiatrist for the duration of your stay here…”

30 minutes of questioning later, Tony had a new diagnosis: Borderline Personality Disorder. The doctor had said something about fear of abandonment and **impetuous** moods that changed suddenly and dramatically, poor impulse control… The list seemed to go on and on. Something about trauma, a shitty childhood, Tony was great at tuning out what he didn’t want to hear. Fury also had suggested that Tony remain in the hospital for at least the rest of the weekend, just to monitor, and to start him on new medications. 

_ Just great. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harangue (noun): a lengthy and aggressive speech  
Impetuous (adj): acting or done quickly and without thought or care  
Ingrate (noun): an ungrateful person  
Insipid (adjective): lacking vigor or interest  
Lurid (adjective): Presented in vividly shocking or sensational terms


	2. The first day is always the hardest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony goes to group therapy, meets the other patients his age, plays Gin Rummy, and Rhodey visits.
> 
> As always, bolded words are from a GRE vocab list, their definitions can be found in the End Notes.

Dr. Fury had strongly suggested that Tony attend the group therapy sessions if he wanted to expedite his discharge from the hospital; Tony noticed pretty quickly that group therapy seemed to be the  _ only  _ thing to do in the place, despite his best efforts. It was that, or sleeping. And Tony had never been one for excess amounts of sleep.

Which is how Tony ended up in some art group therapy session that was taking place in the cafeteria. The nurse that pulled Tony aside after breakfast, Maria, was running it. She handed him a piece of paper, a worksheet really (well, she tried, but Tony  _ really  _ did not like being handed things, so she set it down on the table next to her so she could pick it up by himself. This was probably the most understanding place when it came to that particular quirk, he mused); then directed him to sit anywhere that had a bin of colored pencils nearby. He found Bruce again, and slid into the empty seat; conveniently, this also put him in the same realm as the group of patients his age that he had been curious about earlier in the day. He half listened to Maria’s instructions; it was a worksheet, he didn’t need so many instructions, he thought, and grumbled about that under his breath. Bruce was the only one who had heard him, and just gave him a sympathetic smile. He wondered how long the other boy had been staying there. 

As the patients worked on their worksheets, a low level din filled the cafeteria; Tony found himself unexpectedly comforted by this, only realizing after how quiet the halls were. He zoned out somewhat, mindlessly coloring the design he had sketched out.

“Hey, new kid!” a hand waved in front of his face, and he winced a little. The hand was… metal? And connected to a boy with longer dark hair. The blond kid next to him looked clean-cut and all-American, and Tony snorted under his breath as he saw the all-American one discreetly kick the metal-armed one under the table before quickly glancing to Maria, who didn’t seem to notice, as she was busy with one of the more elderly patients. 

“Sorry about him,” the blond kid said, “I’m Steve, and that’s Bucky, who has no manners.” The pair at the end of the table that were giving each other conspiratorial glances (should Tony be worried about that? He felt like he should be worried about that), snorted at that, tuning into the conversation. “And your name is?”

“Tony,” he said, shrugging and trying to play it nonchalant. If these people recognized him, they weren’t saying anything, and were seemingly interested in him for who he was as a person, not his name. Then again, what good is being from rich parents when you’re in the psych ward. 

Steve gave a pointed look at Bruce, who said, “hey, we’ve met already. But in case you forgot, my name is Bruce.” He gave Tony a small smile, “I’ll pass it off to the Wonder Twins,” he glanced at the conspiratorial duo at the end of the table.

“Nat,” said a slender red haired girl.

Her name was immediately followed by “Clint,” from the dirty blond boy sitting across from her. 

“Wonder twins?” he asked under his breath to Bruce, but the room had quieted enough that the small group could hear it. 

“They just spend all their time together. And do stupid shit that gonna get them in trouble,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

“You mean fun shit,” Bucky corrected, to small whoops from Nat and Clint. 

That alerted the person sitting on the other side of Bucky, who was diligently working on his art piece. Tony glanced at the  **overwrought** piece, noticing that it wasn’t art at all but looked to be a written story, and a long one, from the looks of it.

“Greetings!” the person looked up, it was a boy with long blonde hair and a Scandanavian accent. “I am Thor! And you are?”

“Tony,” he supplied quickly.

A new person came bounding over, making Bucky, Tony, and Bruce all wince a little in his overexuberance. 

“Hi!” he said, plopping down on the bench next to Tony and beginning to color quickly, “I’m a little late to the party because Fury held me over in a meeting going over my meds and…” he realized there was someone new sitting next to him, at that point, and said “Hi I’m Peter! I’m the baby of this place!” he smiled brightly. He looked to be about to say some more, Tony got the sense that the kid operated in stream of consciousness, but Maria cleared her throat.

She offered anyone the chance to share (no one did), and then offered some  **platitudes** about recovery and healing that were total cliches before dismissing them from the activity. Tony stood up, wondering what he was going to do to kill time now, when Bruce’s voice stopped him.

“Hey, we have a Gin Rummy tournament going on, you want in?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Tony replied, sitting back down and watched as Clint went to grab a deck of cards, a piece of paper, and a golf pencil from the shelves. Once Clint returned, he dealt the whole group in, setting the paper down in the middle of the table. “How long has this tournament been going for?” he asked, noticing the high number of tally marks on the paper under each player’s name. 

“Eh, probably a little more than a day,” Bucky said, and at Tony’s surprised expression, snickered a little bit, “yeah, there’s not much to do around here.”

Tony was relieved that once they weren’t under as close supervision as they were doing group therapy, the whole group seemed to lighten up a bit. They were still cognizant of the rules, but were able to carry on a conversation at a low volume with topics that were probably not so therapist approved. Over the game of Gin, Tony learned a lot about his fellow patients. Peter was the baby, as he had said, but this wasn’t the first time he had been inpatient. Nat and Bucky were other veterans of the psych ward, they had actually known each other prior to this stay. It was Steve’s first time, but he had quickly found a best friend in Bucky. It was Clint’s first time too, and him and Nat immediately stuck to each other. Bruce had done intense outpatient before, but this was his first inpatient stay, and Thor… well, Thor talked so much with such  **overwrought ** stories and was certainly  **oblique** , Tony couldn’t make heads or tails of the people or the adventures or the point of what the booming voice said.

They had just finished their game (Tony lost), when the crackling intercom came on overhead to announce visiting hours had started. Grinning, Tony craned his neck to see the visitors walking past, and once he saw Rhodey he stood up with a “catch you later!” He only vaguely noticed that of the other patients he was sitting with, Nat, Clint, and Bruce all remained seated while the others dispersed. 

Visiting hours were lovely, and over way too soon for Tony’s liking. He and Rhodey walked around the unit in circles, just talking about nothing in particular; as always, Tony found the other student’s presence to be incredibly soothing. In what seemed like just minutes, the cracking intercom came back to life to tell visitors to assemble by the double doors that they had come in. “Why can’t visiting hours be like they are in normal hospitals,” he grumbled, “you know, longer than a freakin’ hour!” 

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “did you just…  _ censor _ yourself?” he asked in surprise.

“Er, yeah, I guess so,” Tony rubbed the back of his neck, “We aren’t allowed to curse here, it’s one of the rules, and I guess I picked it up from some of the other people my age who have been here longer when we were playing cards.”

At that point, Tony had walked Rhodey to the doors, and the two briefly hugged before parting ways. “Don’t worry,” Rhodey cracked a grin, “the  **prodigal** student will return to school soon. Though hopefully with less incidences of alcohol poisoning,” he whispered the latter part, making Tony grin.

“See ya, platypus,” he said, still grinning, until the Rhodey walked out the door. Almost immediately, his grin gave way to a morose expression. He wasn’t expecting that it would be more depressing, when the visitors left, but with their departure came a sort of eerie silence and a sense of longing that settled over the floor. He scuffed his socked feet along the carpet as he wandered back to his room, settling down on the bed with a sigh. 

He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the window when Steve came in the room, sat down on his own bed, and gently said, “hey Tony, are you okay?”

“Huh?” he asked, startling out of his zoned out state, “what did you say?”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just…”

“It’s hard when people leave after visiting,” Steve  **posited** , sounding like he certainly knew that was fact from his own experiences. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to play another game of Gin before the next group?”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oblique (adj): not explicit or direct in addressing a point  
Overwrought (adj): (of a piece of writing or a work of art) too elaborate or complicated in design or construction  
Platitude (noun): A remark or statement, especially one with a moral content, that has been used too often to be interesting or thoughtful  
Posit (verb): put forward as fact or as a basis for argument  
Prodigal (noun): a person who leaves home and behaves recklessly, but later makes a repentant return


End file.
